Missing Irene: Lucverse
by Seinaru Kibou no Tenshi
Summary: Luc is meant to be watching his little sister, but decides to go hunting earthworms instead. When he returns, however, she's no longer there!


Gambit and Rogue belong to Marvel. Luc and Irene are my creations, but don't  
tell their parents I said that! glances around nervously Comments and  
criticisms to brucepat@iafrica.com or hopes_angel2@hotmail.com.  
  
And, wow, I'm shocked. I wrote an X-Men story again.  
  
***  
  
MISSING IRENE  
  
"You aren't my real sister! You're a fat, ugly, little piglet that my  
parents felt sorry for and decided to adopt! One day, your real, pig parents  
will come and take you back to their sty along with their other piglets! And  
I'll be glad when they do!"  
  
Hands folded across his chest, Luc glared at the little girl sitting in  
front of him and raising her hands to him. It amazed him how his parents  
couldn't see it when it was so obvious. Chubby and pink with a cotton-tuft  
of white hair, Irene wasn't the cute, little girl everyone said she was -  
she was a piglet. He bet he would find a curly tail if he took off her  
nappy. He bet she would eat garbage if he gave it to her. He bet she would  
prefer it to baby food. She burbled her agreement, "Oink! Oink!"  
  
"Oui, you are a piglet!" he told her, before adding in the sort of loud,  
rebellious voice that he hoped would carry to where his mother was  
discussing something with aunty Kitty, "And I'm still not looking after you!  
I don't care what Momma said!"  
  
Luc scowled. It was so unfair of his mother to expect him to watch Irene on  
such a beautiful day. It had rained the previous night, and the world was  
full of intriguing possibilities as a result. He had puddles through which  
to splash; worms to dig up and put into buckets; mud in which to wallow;  
water to shake from trees; grass across which to slide. Why didn't his  
mother understand that? He had tried to tell her that, but she had just  
smiled at him, ruffled his hair and said the mud-puddles would still be  
there once she was done with Aunty Kitty. His expression darkened further.  
Didn't his mother get that the sun would dry up the best mud-puddles if he  
didn't get to them immediately?  
  
"And it'll be all your fault," he said angrily to Irene, "I really hate you!  
I wish you would just go away!"  
  
"Oink! Oink!" she smiled gummily at him.  
  
"Are you watching the Piglet?" Ainet asked, coming up the path and trailing  
a worn skipping-rope behind her. A chubby, cheerful girl a few months older  
than him, Ainet was Storm and Bishop's daughter as well as his best friend.  
Charles Summers always teased him about the fact that his best friend was a  
girl, but Luc didn't care. He didn't see a girl when he looked at Ainet. He  
saw someone who liked to play tag and hide-and-seek, who enjoyed watching  
cartoons with him on Saturday mornings, who always snuck him a cookie out of  
her parents' jar. And that was good enough for him.  
  
"Oui," he replied glumly, "I want to dig up worms, but I'm stuck watching  
the Piglet."  
  
Holding out the rope to him, "Shame. Want to skip instead?"  
  
"'Ip! 'Ip!" Irene echoed, clapping her hands in enthusiasm.  
  
Luc glanced at her in disgust, before turning his attention back to Ainet.  
She was waiting expectantly for his reply and twirling the rope around in  
one hand, like a cowgirl with a lasso. Suddenly, a brilliant idea occurred  
to him.  
  
"Pass me the skipping-rope, Ainet. I'll tie the Piglet to the tree, and we  
can go hunting worms."  
  
"You sure she'll be okay?" his friend asked doubtfully.  
  
"Positive! I saw this on TV!" he grinned at her, taking the skipping rope  
and kneeling in front of Irene. The baby stared at him quizzically. He  
passed it around her waist and fastened it with a tight knot, before taking  
the other end and tying it around the tree. He gave the rope a tug to make  
sure it was secure, then stood and dusted off his hands with the air of  
having done a good job, "Bye bye, Piglet! Hello, worms!"  
  
*  
  
Doctor Luc Darkholme-LeBeau, world-famous entomologist, and Professor Ainet  
Munroe-Lucas, his trusty and equally famous assistant, were coming back from  
a successful trip to the Amazon rain-forest. They had dodged bloodthirsty  
pygmies (the Summers children), narrowly escaped being crushed by a boa  
constrictor (a hosepipe), crossed a lake of pirahnas (a big puddle) and  
wrestled with a panther (Socks the cat) all in search of the rarest of all  
species of worm: Earthwormus Veryrarus. Having procured ten fine specimens  
in their buckets, they were returning home to do whatever famous scientists  
did on returning home. Luc's copies of National Geographic had never been  
clear on exactly what that was, but he thought that scaring Beth Worthington  
would be close enough to it. . . .  
"I say we put them in an old chocolate box and give it to Beth," he said  
enthusiastically to Ainet, as they approached his house, "She'll freak!"  
  
"Naah," she dismissed his suggestion with a flip of her grubby hand, "She'll  
be suspicious. I say we just drop them right into her blonde, curly hair."  
  
"Good idea!" Luc laughed. One of Ainet's great grievances was that she did  
not have blonde, curly hair and never would. Even if Beth hadn't been such a  
spoilt, little cry-baby, Ainet would have still hated her for her hair. Long  
and golden, it was just like that of a fairy princess in a storybook or an  
angel in the pictures in his Bible. Considering her father had white,  
feathery wings sprouting from his shoulders, he guessed that that was to be  
expected. He didn't know why it bothered Ainet so much. His own hair was  
straight and red, apart from the white strands at his fringe, and he'd never  
wanted blond curls.  
  
"How will we get close enough to . . . ." Ainet cut herself off in  
mid-sentence, and exclaimed in horror, "Luc! The Piglet's not there!"  
  
"What?!"  
  
His stomach twisting painfully within him, Luc looked beneath the tree where  
he had left his sister. One end of the skipping rope was still tied to its  
trunk, but the other lay loose and limp on the grass. Irene was very  
obviously no longer attached to it. His bucket of earthworms falling to the  
floor, He turned to his friend in panic and said, "But how? She's just a  
baby! She can't untie knots!"  
  
"Maybe someone took her!" her eyes were wide, "Maybe someone kidnapped her,  
while we weren't there!"  
  
"This is all my fault! I wished she'd go away and she did!" Hot tears rose  
in Luc's eyes and spilt down his cheeks. He felt sick, like he was going to  
vomit. His stomach hurt and his chest felt tight. This mess was all his  
fault. This was all happening because he had wished he could get rid of  
Irene. Maybe some fairy had been listening to him, and had waved her wand to  
magic her away from there. Now, she would refuse to give her back to them  
until they completed three tasks, or killed a monster, or went on a long  
journey. Even then, she might replace her with a changeling - a fairy-baby  
who looked like Irene, but who just lay in the cradle and smiled stupidly.  
That was what always happened in books.  
  
Sniffing, he rubbed at his wet eyes with the back of his hand, "What am I  
going to tell momma? She's gonna be so mad when she finds out that Irene's  
gone.... "  
  
"Still, you have to tell her, Luc. Irene could be in trouble and your mom  
needs to know about it," Ainet said urgently to him, "And hurry. This could  
be real bad."  
  
*  
  
Blowing his nose on a fold of his muddy shirt, Luc walked up the steps of  
his house and slowly pushed open the door. His mom was stretched out on the  
lounge sofa with a thick book in one hand. Her streaked hair was loose  
around her shoulders, and she had a little frown of concentration on her  
face. Luc felt his insides turn and twist within him again, like the mass of  
earthworms in his bucket. How was he going to tell her about Irene? How  
could he even begin to tell her that he hadn't been watching Irene, because  
he had wanted to hunt earthworms with Ainet? Worse, how could he tell her  
that it was all his fault, because he had wanted her to go away for good?  
  
Luc wished his dad was home, but he was a thousand, thousand miles in New  
Orleans visiting his own dad and looking after Guild business. Poppa would  
have known what was wrong and found a way to fix it without Luc needing to  
speak a word. He wouldn't have gotten cross with him either. He would just  
have hugged him and told him it would be all right, before getting Irene  
back from wherever she had been taken by the fairy. He loved his mom very  
much, but she just didn't understand things in the same way his dad did.  
  
"Maman . . ." he began, tears beginning to well up in his eyes again, "I got  
somet'ing t'tell ya, an' ya're gonna be cross wit' me . . . ."  
  
"Well, that makes two of us, kiddo," Rogue closed her book and set it to one  
side, before getting to her feet and coming to stand in front of him. She  
folded her arms across her chest, which Luc knew was a bad sign. When she  
folded her arms across her chest, even uncle Logan ran in the other  
direction, "What with you tyin' Irene up like she was a dog and runnin' off  
to hunt worms or whatever! Ah thought you had more common sense than that!  
If Ah hadn't come out to check on you and seen her like that, Lawd knows  
what would have happened to her! That was so stupid of you, Luc!"  
  
"You . . . found her? She's safe?" he whispered, unable to believe his ears.  
  
"Yeah, she's in her crib at the moment, but that doesn't mean you're off the  
hook," Rogue continued, "You're grounded for at least a month."  
  
Luc wouldn't have cared if she had said he was grounded for a year. Irene  
hadn't been taken by a fairy, and he hadn't wished her away forever. She had  
been safe in her cradle the entire time. Sweet relief filled him. He felt  
like singing, dancing, shouting, hugging his mom. Instead, he asked, "Can I  
see her? I want to make sure she's okay."  
  
"Ah guess so, sugah."  
  
"Merci, maman."  
  
"Je t'en prie, cheri," she replied, her voice gentler than before.  
  
Luc slipped his grubby hand into his mom's cool one, and let himself be led  
up the stairs. Together, they went into the nursery and came to stand in  
front of the crib. Small and perfect, Irene was lying asleep in it, a mobile  
of butterflies drifting in lazy circles above her. She was smiling to  
herself as if she were having some happy, baby dream.  
  
"She's really okay . . . ."  
  
Standing by the cradle, looking down at his little sister, Luc realised  
something very important. He realised that he loved her.  
  
*  
  
FIN!  
  
*  
  
Say it with me: "Aww!" 


End file.
